here I stand upwind
with a dead bird in my hands
in barren Eden
and look at the sore plucked backs
of my deserting brothers
I yell after them
“omens are a pile of crap!
who can blame people
if hosts of heaven act like
credulous aborigines?”
wind snatches my words
and mixes them up with sand
nobody believes
that cold grey ash in my hands
is an arising phoenix
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016
∼ Part I ∼
It’s midday and there are anxious knocks at his front door.
He wonders if the neighbors’ friends got the wrong door.
Opening to see about the commotion,
Seems to only heighten his confusion.
Nothing is there. Nope.
Nothing is there.
At his back door he hears those knocks again.
He rushes through his home like a madman,
To open his back door hoping to see who’s knocking,
Again he sees nothing.
It’s like staring into a nebula of discombobulated shadows.
Back to his living room he goes, then finds a black unicorn, a purple owl, and two black crows.
Overwhelmed. The sight further rattles his compunction.
As they fuse together causing a huge static emersion.
His body wilts to the floor
And…
∼ Part II ∼
“I told you, Clothra, owls can’t look like a bush of lilac!
See? What will we do with this unconscious sack?!
We should bring him to Emain Macha until Beltane
And I’m not going to get it in the neck again!”
“Shut up, Sweeney! Give you a choice and you’ll paint black
Even a rainbow. It would be better if you stop to clack
Like a clocking hen and help me to bring him round…
Hey! You, twins! Hurry up! Are you too spellbound?!”
“Clothra, don’t go playing the big boss!
Sweeney is right… you make too much of gloss!
We’re not buffoons… We’re… Oh! Did he open his eyes?
Hush! Hush, guys! Turn on the fireflies!”
The air is filled with a subtle glow
And…
∼ Part III ∼
His eyes. The color. Vacillates between black & violet
In a haze, volcanic echoes vibrate. Commanding him to fight…
Fight! Fight! Fight! Finger snaps, claps, and slapping wings
Bellows him to awaken with voices like un-Earthly beings.
He hears voices commanding him to come forth to receive his messages
A feeling as if his body is being bent into a set of strange corsages
He hears another set of voices, “Oh! Did he open his eyes?
Hush! Hush, guys! Turn on the fireflies!”
His visage of things seems blurred but are truly clear.
His mind again perambulates confusion and fear
As a hybrid bird stands before him speaking strange things,
Talking a language known and unknown, then odd names.
He surveys the room, their faces, and concludes there is no hostility here.
Soon enough he loosens up, wonders about message, curiosity wins here.
Wings extended, inviting him to take a seat. He does.
Their beak opens
And…
∼ Part IV ∼
…in the far country, where springs are crystalline,
Where trees are vibrant and women hiss like a feline,
At the world’s end where all must be as was foretold,
She embroiders a shroud with pearls and gold.
A needle pricks,
A horologe ticks…
She whispers prayers mixed up with ribald couplets
About kings’ weaknesses and queens’ merits,
She sips thick gin, wiping her mouth on the sleeve.
Intricate patterns on white samite interweave.
Beltane is soon. She looks at the dark sky.
A lone star gleams like a tiny firefly.
Elatha… She bites through a gold thread
And limply drops her body into bed.
A horologe ticks,
A door latch clicks…
Hush, guys! No monkey tricks!
Please, let her sleep!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & GREGORY WAITS JR.
© All rights reserved 2015
The Tin Man walks home
from the market at morning.
Fresh bakery, fruits,
a big bouquet of daisies…
all that his Dorothy loves.
He walks and glistens
in the morning sun. He thinks
about her blue eyes
and her lovely smile. He hugs
the bouquet like her shoulders.
“Hey, you, hurry up!
Only 3 days in the town
a world-famous coach,
a relationship expert.
Oz, the great and powerful!”
Of course, the Tin Man
sits in the first row and heeds
the words of wisdom
and diligently makes notes
about ‘loving validly’.
…such a perfect speech!
Oz hotly touches his chest
and inspiredly speaks
to the breathless audience
where ‘authentic love’ resides.
The Tin Man stands on
the stage among volunteers
and suddenly… “Oh!
No-no-no! You, piece of tin!
Push off, shell of a person!”
Grating of gearwheels…
The Tin Man was made heartless,
but sure not brainless.
A real, alive, hot heart
is all that the Tin Man needs!
…at the rear entrance
fans wait for an autograph,
but not the Tin Man.
When you love desperately
the end justifies the means.
The Tin Man walks home
from the market at morning.
Fresh bakery, fruits…
and a hot pulsating heart
in a plain cellophane bag.
He puts the daisies
into her favorite vase
and pictures her joy…
…how she finds on her pillow
this heart oozing with true love.
On the tin life field
memories fade like daisies.
The falling petals…
The Tin Man… Dorothy… Oz…
Hush! Do you hear town criers?
“Hey, you, hurry up!
Only 3 days in the town
a world-famous coach,
a relationship expert.
Stannum, the comprehended Love!”
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)
Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.
We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*
If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.
* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2015-2018
Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)
Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.
We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*
If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.
* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2015-2018
unbolt me 